


Fiddleford's Stalker

by zfiledh



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, set before Portal was fully built
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zfiledh/pseuds/zfiledh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is watching over Fiddleford, but the reason for it is not something he approves of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fiddleford's Stalker

“Fiddleford, why are you nailing garlands of garlic around the windows and doors of my house?”

Fiddleford paused midway into hammering a nail over a window to look at Stanford standing behind him. He had about three or four nails between his teeth.

“Ish bampyre deeterrenk,” Fiddleford replied.

“Say what?”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes and spat out the nails onto the floor. "I said it's a vampire deterrent, Ford," he said, sounding a little cross. He turned back and continued to hammer the garland of garlic over the window.

Ford raised an eyebrow and entered the kitchen. He placed a red journal on the tabletop and picked up the slimmer of two books that he spotted next to a box full of garlic.

“ _Paranormal Stalkers: How to Let Them Know You're Not Interested...One Way or Another_ ,” Ford read aloud. He lowered the book just as Fiddleford jumped off the chair and dusted off his hands. “This is unusually specific. What caused all this, Fiddleford?”

Fiddleford sighed and placed the hammer on the kitchen table. “Remember last week when I had to rush out to the convenience store in town at night because _someone_ forgot to buy groceries the day before?”

“Uh, yeah,” replied Ford, avoiding Fiddleford’s eyes.

“Welp, I met a pretty foreign lady in the store who asked me questions about how to get to Portland,” Fiddleford continued. “Goes by the name of Vlada Something (I don’t rightly recall). In hindsight, that should have tipped me off. Anyway, you know me, I’m not quite familiar with these parts, so I told her what useful information I could and left with the groceries. I just…I just didn’t know she followed me back to the house until the following night.”

“Wait,” interjected Ford, “Was that the time I was trying to get rid of that damned Leprecorn?”

“The very same day,” said Fiddleford, nodding. He paused to give a nervous look out the window before continuing, “The sun was going down and you weren’t back. I was playing the banjo out on the porch whiling away the time…and there she was, standing in the clearing. Before I could react, she was suddenly _right there_ and she—she bit me!”

Ford reacted with a resounding “WHAT?! Vlada is a vampire! You got bitten by a vampire! And…you didn’t turn into one?” He looked confused.

Fiddleford nodded. He pointed to the left side of his neck, where Ford could see two faint puncture marks, and said, “She got me right here, took a few sips and…and let me go and looked quite offended.”

Ford stared at his friend. Then he grabbed his journal, opened it, and pulled a pen from his pocket. “Why did she stop?” he asked as he scribbled hastily into the journal.

“She didn’t like how my blood tasted because apparently I’m anemic,” said Fiddleford, frowning. “Not a fun way to find out, very painful! And then she glared at me and demanded I see a doctor about this before leaving in a huff.”

That made Ford stop scribbling notes down on his journal. “She became concerned about your health?”

“She was! I didn’t know that was the beginning,” Fiddleford groaned, putting his face in his hands. “The next night, I found a box of iron supplements on the porch with my name on it. I don’t know where she got ‘em!”

“You’re kidding,” said Ford incredulously. “That’s unusually considerate of her.”

“I thought so, too. And then, two nights ago, she sent me THIS.”

Fiddleford picked up the second book from the table and showed Ford the cover. Ford took it and read the title out loud: “ _How to Taste Delicious_ by Count Halex Smirsch”.

Ford dropped the book in shock. “Holy Moses! She’s trying to make your blood more palatable!”

Before Fiddleford could reply, the window behind him exploded. A rock with a note attached had been pitched through the glass. The two men jumped up; Fiddleford picked up the rock, untied the note attached to it, and handed it to Ford with a shaking hand.

“Can you read what it says?” he requested in a nervous voice.

Ford nodded and took the note. He unfolded it and read aloud, “ _Why did you put garlic around the house? You are being very ungrateful. Perhaps you need more red meat in your diet. I will send you a cow tomorrow. ~V_ ”

The two men looked at each other for a moment. Then they each grabbed a garland of garlic and placed it around their necks before scouring the house for silver and parts for a portable UV light.


	2. The Follow-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vampire keeps their word.

Stanford shouldn’t have been surprised to find a live cow grazing near the house when they woke up that morning, just as Fiddleford’s new “friend” had promised in her note. It seems that she wasn’t going to let up on her “concern” for Fiddleford’s health.

Poor Fiddleford: when he spotted the toffee-colored cow through the partially boarded-up window, the lanky man spat out his coffee, screamed himself silly, and ran out of the kitchen. Ford found him in the guest bedroom wearing ten garlands of garlic around his neck and brandishing a powerful flashlight hooked up to a suitcase-sized battery. Despite his friend’s terror, Ford had to appreciate how fast McGucket could whip up a portable UV light while in a panic.

“She has it in for me, Stanford!” Fiddleford yelped. “She’s gonna come get me and drain me dry, that’s what!”

“Easy there, buddy,” Ford said consolingly from the doorway. He held up a slim tome before continuing, “According to your _Paranormal Stalkers_ book, vampires can’t just waltz into the house. You need to _invite_ them in. That must be why she used a rock to send you a message.”

Fiddleford dropped the arm holding the UV light. “That’s—that’s something,” he said faintly, with a trace of hope.

“Of course, this limits your safety to inside the house and walking outside during daylight hours,” Ford helpfully supplied. Then he looked at his friend’s disgruntled expression. “Oh.”

“Real helpful, Pines,” the engineer muttered, sinking into his garlands of garlic. “Real helpful.”

And that was how Ford found himself out and about in town that afternoon, haphazardly stapling flyers with a description of the cow and details on how to reclaim the creature. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for the socially reticent Ford, what with the people constantly gawking at him. But there were moments when he felt more intense eyes following him around as he hit the hardware store and bought groceries.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck as he drove Fiddleford’s car back to the house in the woods.

This needs to stop.

**XXXXX**

Meanwhile, Fiddleford decided that it was fairly safe enough (and light enough) to go outside and inspect the new visitor on the lawn. He knew that it was silly of him to worry about vampires in the middle of the day, but he couldn’t forget the moment when the woman lifted him up by his lapels and bit him. As he pet the cow, he was also aware of a niggling indignation that she found his blood gross.

“Fiddleford…”

He paused in the middle of stroking the cow’s neck. That voice sounded familiar…

“Fiddleford, my dear! Come to the trees…” cooed the voice. It was both soft and compelling.

It sounded predatory.

Without taking his now-shaking hand off the cow, Fiddleford raised his eyes to the border of the property. Among the shadows cast by the trees, he spotted a cloaked figure. Swallowing nervously, Fiddleford started walking backwards towards the cabin.

“My dear man, have you set an appointment with a physician since our last meeting?” asked the figure from the trees. “I can smell you from here; you still have that disappointing _lack_ in your blood.”

“I—I don’t know why that’s any of your business, Miss Vampire,” he said, mustering up righteous indignation. He touched the garlic garland around his neck as he took another two steps backward.

“I make it my business, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket,” she said simply. “I still remember the taste of your blood. I am both offended and concerned for you.”

Fiddleford’s eyes bulged as he sputtered, feeling equal parts cross and terrified.

“I thought you would appreciate my gift of iron supplements. I believed they will help alleviate your condition…”

“Are—are you always this nice to your prey, Missy?!” Fiddleford interrupted, tamping down his panic as best as he could. He took another step backward and landed painfully on his rear; he had reached the porch.

“Please, call me Vlada,” said the woman. “You should count yourself fortunate that I am looking out for your well-being! A hundred years ago, I would have been compelled to obliterate you on the spot for having terrible-tasting blood. We vampires are more enlightened now.”

Fiddleford didn’t know what was worse: the fact that vampires would kill you for having blood that disagreed with them or the way that Vlada discussed this so airily.

“Is that why you sent me that atrocious cookbook?!” Fiddleford asked; he could no longer keep the hysteria out of his voice.

The figure from the trees moved; it looked like the cloaked figure had placed her hands on her hips. Fiddleford wondered if he had offended her somehow. He started inching his way towards the door.

“ _Atrocious_?!” she said, sounding shocked. “I’ll have you know that that book is a gift to both mortals and vampires! It has been a bestseller for over sixty years; that copy I sent you was part of the last stock from the printers! You should be grateful you have a brand-new copy _at all_!”

Fiddleford’s back made contact with something solid just as he heard a car coming up the rocky driveway.

“Oh no…STANFORD!” he gasped. He looked around him; the sky was becoming blood-red as the sun began to set.

“I will come back again soon, Fiddleford,” said Vlada. “I’m not giving up on you. Now go and have your cow!”

And just as Stanford parked the car in front of the porch, Vlada’s shadowy form blended with the shadows of the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think I’d write a sequel for Fiddleford’s Stalker, but here we are! This was inspired from the same vampire thread as the first chapter.


	3. The Vampire Alternative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two Fords finally find out why the vampire wants to help Fiddleford…

_The following evening..._

Under the porch light, Stanford sat cross-legged in front of the door, scribbling into his red journal. He just put the finishing touches to the Plaidypus entry when someone spoke.

"Good evening."

Stanford stopped writing and looked up. In front of him were two long-haired women wearing cloaks. As they were standing in the darkness, away from the porch light, Stanford could only tell them apart by the color of their hair: the one on his left had light blond hair, while he assumed the one on his right was a brunette.

“Er—good evening, ladies,” he said politely. Without looking away from the two women, Stanford marked the Plaidypus page and closed the journal before setting it down next to him. He stood up as the slender blond woman took a few steps forward. When the light hit her, Stanford saw that she was very pretty, with delicate features framing wide eyes of a startlingly vivid shade of purple.

“Pardon me, but is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket at home?” asked the blond woman in a soft voice.

Ford wondered if she could sense how he tensed when she stated his friend’s full name.

“That depends,” Ford replied in a polite, controlled tone. “May I know who’s asking for him?”

“Oh, I do beg pardon!” she said, placing a white hand over her chest. “He has probably told you about our meeting, but _we_ just met! My name is Vlada. My companion here is Verdana. And you are Stanford Filbrick Pines, a friend of Fiddleford’s!”

When Vlada mentioned his full name, Ford’s eyes widened.

As her name was spoken, the other woman stepped forward into the circle of light. Verdana had black hair and heavy-lidded dark eyes. She looked at Ford, then turned her head to sniff. Whatever she smelled made her scrunch up her aquiline nose.

“I smell garlic within this dwelling, Vlada,” Verdana muttered. “But it is not enough to mask the scent of the second man inside.”

“Oh, he’s here!” said Vlada brightly. She turned to Ford and asked, “May we come in?”

Ford started clearing his throat. “Uh—I—uh, before I do that, might I ask what you want from my friend? He’s become quite jittery since you bit him and left him those ‘presents’ to help with his anemia.”

Vlada bit her lower lip and gave Verdana a nervous look. Ford was reminded of a nervous teenager with fangs. Verdana sighed at her companion and shook her head.

“I take it you did not explain to Fiddleford why you sent him presents?” Verdana speculated.

“Well…not completely. I was so excited to find one like Fiddleford that I—went ahead and started sending them to him.” Vlada looked at Ford. “Did he like the cow?”

Now it was Ford’s turn to be nervous. “He did actually. He was quite sad when Mr. Sprott arrived to claim her back.”

“Oh…he didn’t consume it?” Vlada actually looked hurt.

“He didn’t,” answered Ford. “Look, it’s a messy business to—ah—prepare a cow for consumption, and we don’t have the space, equipment, or the stomach to do that.”

“Oh my,” said Vlada, looking crestfallen. “I should have done the deed myself. Fiddleford would have enough meat to counteract the lack in his blood…”

“But _why_?” asked Ford, perplexed. “Why are you so invested in Fiddleford’s blood?!”

“Vlada, dear, you must explain it to him now or we will stand here until dawn breaks,” said Verdana reasonably.

Vlada sighed. “Very well,” she muttered. To Ford, she said, “It has been a tradition for vampires to eliminate any human they encounter who has what we call ‘bad blood’. It leaves a bad taste to us…”

“The period of ‘Black Death’ was especially lean times,” Verdana murmured. Ford tried hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Oh yes, dear Verdana! That has been our way until a very enlightened vampire by the name of Count Halex Smirsch came up with a novel idea,” continued Vlada excitedly. “Count Smirsch says that humans with ‘bad blood’ should be spared, not exterminated! He proposed that those humans, when discovered by a vampire, should be given a chance to be helped. In return, the newly cured human will help the vampire back by allowing the vampire to feed from them. It is a—how you say—win-win situation!”

“I introduced this concept to Vlada over sixty years ago,” shared Verdana. “I had the privilege to meet Count Smirsch when he went on a worldwide tour to share this idea. Very few vampires were enamored of this bold new way of thinking.”

“This is why I was so excited when I encountered Fiddleford!” said Vlada, smiling widely. “He is the first ‘bad blood’ human I met, and I immediately set out to help him before I had the chance to explain it to him! I had the feeling that he wasn’t receptive to my assistance, so I reached out to Verdana here to help me.”

The two women look at Ford.

“This is a very good opportunity for Fiddleford, don’t you think?” Verdana purred.

“No I don’t!” yelped Fiddleford from inside the house. The two women looked scandalized.

Verdana frowned. “What?”

“You heard him,” Ford said calmly. He casually placed a hand to his hip and continued: “My friend is uninterested in your offered partnership.” Ford started walking carefully backwards. “So, with that said, I’ll be checking in for the ni—”

The rest of Ford’s statement ended in a choking sound as Verdana swooped in on him and grabbed him in a headlock. Ford was forced to lean at the waist as the dark-haired woman pulled him away from the door. He grasped a slender wrist to try to free himself, but she wouldn’t budge. Ford swallowed; she was hideously strong.

“Verdana, what are you doing?!” Vlada squeaked. “I mean, we agreed that you would have his friend, but only after…”

“Fiddleford does not know what he’s missing out on,” said Verdana coldly, tightening her hold on Ford’s neck. “He must be persuaded. We mean well!”

Ford doubted that, particularly when she’s choking off his air supply. He was about to pass out when the door slammed open and a bright blue light was focused on them. Verdana and Vlada screamed as Ford was released. He dropped to the ground, wheezing. As he gulped in some air, he registered the horrible sound and smell of burning flesh.

Ford looked up; Fiddleford was standing in the doorway, wearing his usual lei of garlic and looking as ferocious as he’d ever seen him. The lanky man aimed the large modified flashlight ahead of him, the battery of which was strapped to his chest.

“If ya want me, come and git me!” he roared.

Ford made the mistake of looking beside him; Verdana got the full blast of the UV light, and she looked horrible. Her face looked like it was seared over a hot flame.

“You wretch!” she screamed. “We’re trying to help you and this is how you repay us?! I will rip you apart!!!”

“Verdana, no!” screamed Vlada as the other woman sprinted towards Fiddleford. Fiddleford, to Ford’s surprise, grinned as he dashed into the house. Ford and Vlada could only watch as Verdana stepped across the doorway and froze. Ford blinked and saw that she turned into stone.

Vlada screamed as she ran off into the night.

Ford coughed and stood up on wobbly legs. He walked slowly back to the house, and realized that with Verdana’s statue blocking the doorway, he needed to walk around to the kitchen door to get into the cabin.

“Stanford, are ya alright?” Fiddleford asked over Verdana’s shoulder.

“I’m okay, Fidds,” Ford replied hoarsely. “So this is what happens when a vampire enters the house without an invite.”

“Freaky,” said Fiddleford. He raised a finger and poked Verdana’s face. There was a cracking sound and the statue crumbled into a heap of ash. The two men looked at the remains of the vampire for a moment.

Fiddleford sighed. “I’ll go get the broom.”

Ford stepped over the pile and clapped his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks buddy.”

“Honestly, Stanford, why’d you stay outside without any protection on ya?” Fiddleford chastised. In response, Ford reached under his tan trenchcoat and extracted what looked like a flare gun.

“I modified this to hold some special garlic rounds encased in glass,” explained Ford. “Pretty neat, right? Too bad I didn’t get the chance to use it.”

Beyond the trees, Vlada looked sadly at them before she raised the hood of her cloak and vanished into the darkness. She never returned to bother Fiddleford again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written right after seeing this post on Tumblr:  
> http://the-ill-doctor.tumblr.com/post/146753352203/pedestrianfootbridge-harblkun-krazykitsune
> 
> I read a few fics and comics about Fiddleford being a target for vampires, which made him an instant choice for this one-shot fic. Poor guy...


End file.
